


No Regrets

by Basic_Spirit



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Domestic, M/M, Masturbation, Waylon's a dumb gay nerd, kind of smutty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-09
Updated: 2014-12-04
Packaged: 2018-02-24 18:15:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2591357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Basic_Spirit/pseuds/Basic_Spirit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While in college, Waylon takes up teaching yoga to make ends meet. Basically some kind of yoga AU where Miles is hot and Waylon's super gay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all! This is kind of my first Outlast fanfiction. This is some really stupid idea I had when I started doing yoga a few months ago, I really don't know. You don't really have to know anything about yoga to read this though. Sorry if this story feels all over the place, I have no clue where I'm going with this. And sorry for a few rough formatting things in this chapter... XD So enjoy I guess??

Sometimes I regretted decisions I made.  
  
And by sometimes, I mean most times.  
  
Moving to California alone with no housing plans or job set up beforehand? Yeah, that's a choice I regret. Losing touch with Eddie? Regret there too. Even things like trying something new at Starbucks that I didn't like cast this feeling onto me.  
  
One thing I will never regret was teaching yoga.  
  
Being at Berkely, money was tight - as I already mentioned, I was hardly prepared to be out living on my own. For the first few months, I scraped by on Top Ramen and Campbells Soup. I didn't know enough about technology to find myself a job more than unpaid intern. I needed something to help make ends meet, and this instructing job popped up at the perfect time.  
  
I'll admit, my credentials probably weren't the best, but the regular teacher had taken off on maternity leave, and I'd been doing yoga with my mom since I was 14. I wasn't bad, for sure. It fit in well with my schedule, three nights a week that I could take an hour off to lead a course. It always helped me unwind, and mentally prepped me for what I knew would be a long night of code-writing to come.  
  
Male yoga instructors aren't traditional, I know, and most guys wouldn't be able to take it. Being in California, most of my students were teenage girls, all decked out in their leggings and tank tops and sun-bleached hair. Boner alert, am I right, fellas? Heheh, this was never really a problem for me. I'd known I was gay since I was pretty little, which had never been a problem for me, and I'd been outed in tenth grade, but no one really cared. Of course, most of my friends were girls, and I'd never really had a significant other. Well, there was one...  
  
Anyway, I'm getting off the subject.  
  
Being gay and teaching a class full of girls was no problem for me. It was Wednesday evening, class in the sunset studio (which I loved - I would spend all my time in there if I could) and I paced between downward dogs. "Feel your heels stretch towards the back wall," I spoke gently, stepping lightly as serene music filled the space. "And on your next inhale, lengthen the back a little bit more..."  
  
This was something I genuinely enjoyed doing. I bent beside one of my regulars, Lisa, touching her thigh gently and not even speaking. She knew my now to stretch her legs just a little bit more, as I moved my hands down to her calves, and finally her feet. Her heels bent towards the ground and I breathed, "That's it... now, on your next inhale, bring your feet to the front of the mat..."  
  
At the end of today's class, while everybody rolled up their mats, Lisa approached me. It was nothing out of the ordinary - I mean, usually some people had some questions about certain moves we'd done or next week.  
  
"Today's class was really good," she smiled, hanging her yoga met over her shoulder. "I didn't know I could bend like that."  
  
"You're definitely getting better," I smiled serenely.  
  
"It's all thanks to you, I... I think you've really helped. Thanks," she smiled, brushing dark curls back behind her ear. "I was wondering... um, would you like to get coffee some time?"  
  
I was taken aback. "U-um..." Was she coming on to me? I'd never been asked out by a girl before - back in high school, it had never really been a problem, everyone knew I wasn't interested - and I didn't know what I was supposed to say. I bumbled, "I-I'd love to grab coffee, but, uh, I-I'm not interested like that. I'm gay."  
  
"Oh..." she bit her lips and dipped her head in a nod. "Okay, yeah. But still, if you want to get together, uh..."  
  
"Sure," I smiled, probably still feeling more flustered than her. "Well, uh... see you next week...?"  
  
After class, I fled with my tail between my legs, returning home to my shared dorm. My roommate David was sprawled on his bed with notes and a textbook spread out in front of him. We played out our regular after class back-and-forth:  
  
"How was yoga?"  
  
"Good, I feel so much better now. I still say you should try it."  
  
"Hey man, I haven't been able to touch my toes since I was six. And yoga pants aren't me."  
  
"You don't have to be flexible already, just - never mind. How was class?"  
  
"Long. I have a lot of homework. I think you should bring some of them yoga chicks back to our place. Spice things up a little."  
  
This time, I laughed. "I've got a funny story, actually. One of the girls in my class - Lisa? Have I mentioned her before?"  
  
He furrowed a brow and spoke slowly, "Ssshhe's the one that takes every class you teach?"  
  
I nodded, "That's right. Just... after tonight's session, she came up to ask me on a date."  
  
" _Waylon_!" David yelled. "Seriously, I've seen the kind of babes that take your class, and she was hitting on you!? Dammit, Park, you shoulda said yes!"  
  
"No," I grinned, crossing my legs on my bed. "You know me, I'm not into that kind of stuff."  
  
"I don't care, you could've at least brought her back her for me," David sighed and closed his textbook, scratching his jaw. "I swear to god, I knew university would be hard, but I thought my sex life would get some kind of a boost."  
  
"What about that girl from your Bio class?" I recalled seeing her around the apartment a time or two before.  
  
He shrugged. "We were never that serious, I think she had a boyfriend anyway... it feels like everyone here is either taken or uninterested."  
  
"You'll find someone," I encouraged him. In truth, David was a pretty good guy: cute face, smart, fun to be around and easy going.  
  
But not like _that_. It was weird, but I've never felt anything for David. He and I just didn't really match.  
  
"Aw, man," he leaned back on his bed, folding up his notes. "At least back in high school I had Mary. When's the last time you were in a major relationship? Was it Glusk - "  
  
I cut him off, " _David_. Not right now." He knew very well that my most recent (and only) relationship had been with Eddie Gluskin, back at Lake County High School. I'd invested so much time into perfecting myself for him, and it all just felt like a waste. There were days that I could look back at our two years together and find fond memories, but today was not one of those days. In the half a year I'd been living with David, I'd cried over Eddie time and time again, sobbing out pieces of our relationship in the wee hours of the morning. It was probably going to be a sensitive subject for the rest of my life.

"Well, I think you need someone," thankfully, David didn't press any more tonight.  
  
"Me?" I was surprised at how quickly he could turn a conversation around. "I thought we were talking about satisfying _your_ libido."  
  
"Well, obviously, I'm gonna get some action before you," he said with a smirk. "I'm just saying you should keep your eyes open - "  
  
"You know what? I don't think you know me," I crossed my arms, furrowing my brow a little. "I'm not some... pure good little church boy. I'm not gonna wait until I fall in love and am ready to get married before fucking a guy - "  
  
"Well wasn't that how it was with Gluskin?"  
  
I went silent, my face very hot. The story of my virginity loss was seeped out drunkly one night only a month after moving in. It wasn't the experience itself that was bad - at the time, I was sure I was doing the right thing, I told myself I was in love with Eddie and that would never change - but it was all the regret that came afterwards. The feeling that I'd been blind, and the knowledge of how much power he'd held over me. Now it just made me feel stupid and wrong, that I'd gone so far but lost it all.  
  
"That's not fair." I drew my lips into a tight line and I locked my eyes on the ground.  
  
David quickly realized he'd said the wrong thing. "Waylon, I - I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be cruel."  
  
I knew he was being honest: he hadn't brought up Gluskin to hurt me, he'd just spoken without thinking. "It's fine," I sighed, shaming my head, "And you're right, I do need to find someone else, but... I don't know. There is nobody."  
  
"Hey, maybe somebody will turn up," David got to his feet and lightly punched my arm. "You're cute and smart, I'm sure you'll be able to find somebody. I mean, all those girls in your class - "  
  
"You know I don't like girls like that, "I turned to watch him as he sauntered back to our little kitchen area. "And you're not falling for me, right?" I asked with a cringe.  
  
He looked back at me over his shoulder, yelling, " _Hell no!"_  
  
I love him.  
  
... not like _that_.  
  
For the first time in my life, I was kind of dreading to go to yoga class. Even thought I knew she wouldn't, I felt like I was going to get a confrontation from Lisa. She was very pretty, I could admit that much, but I just didn't like girls. They were kind of weird and just... I didn't find anything about them attractive. That's why I could teach the class so well.  
  
But as much as I was afraid of seeing Lisa, I had to go. I was at the studio fifteen minutes early, adjusting the lights and thermostat, hooking my iPhone into the stereo system and looking through my notes from the last few weeks.  
  
"... am I in the right place?"  
  
I turned around to see the hottest guy I'd seen in a while standing in the doorway, dressed in a cut up tank top and loose shorts, a yoga mat rolled up under his arm.  
  
 _Oh god._  
  
"Y-you're here for yoga?" I stupidly asked, my voice catching in my throat and sounding terrible to my own ears.  
  
"Yup, I think I got the times messed up thought," he ran his fingers through straight brown hair, spiked up.  
  
"No, it's fine, I mean, class-the class doesn't start, it's starting in fifteen minutes." I was an idiot. I hadn't bumbled like this in a long time.  
  
"Cool, I'll just... hang out in the front room," he shrugged, turning around.  
  
"Um, if you want to set up now, you can..." I trailed off, but he'd heard me.  
  
"Oh," he looked back over his shoulder, flashing a smile of perfect teeth. "Sure."  
  
As he went to unroll his mat, a silence longer than it should've been stretched between us. I didn't know what to say, and I desperately wished I'd put the music on. I wouldn't dare to make conversation, so I just stupidly said, "Other people should be getting here soon."  
  
He sat down on his mat with crossed legs. "Y'know, it's not so bad with just me and you."  
  
Oh my god. Holy shit. Was he... was he flirting with me? I don't know if I'd ever been flirted with before, and my face heated up before I could say anything.  
  
The silence returned (this time I busied myself with taking some blocks out of the storage room) and the darker haired male crossed his legs and stretched himself down. I begged myself not to stare, not to watch his muscled arms elegantly reach towards the front of his mat. Not to look at the tangle of dark hair under his arms, not to look at the subtle bulge between his legs.  
  
Oh _fuck_.  
  
From then on, I refused myself to look at him. My face was already on fire and I felt my lower stomach clench in a way that was _not_ fucking okay. I left the room and went to wash my face with cold water.  
  
This was clearly going to be a problem.  
  
I couldn't just tell him to leave. I desperately wanted him to stay; I'd never had a male student before. But I swear to god, I didn't know how to deal with that much exposure. Once I was sure I'd regained my composure, I returned to the studio to find most of my regulars already there. Lisa smiled and waved when she saw me, and I gulped and waved back.  
  
I was a little scatterbrained for the whole lesson, forgetting what I had planned a time or two and misnaming a few of the moves. I was afraid to walk too close to Lisa, suddenly feeling very self-conscious around her. I didn't want to be, I was always glad to help, but I still felt like I was giving the wrong impression. In fact, I could barely bring myself to touch any of the students. However, when we were doing chavasana, Lisa spoke up and requested, "Can your press down our shoulders?"  
  
It was a good idea - after all the arm work we'd done today, I knew they deserved some kind of reward - so I swallowed the butterflies and made my way around the room, breathing in and out with each student before hooking my thumbs onto their collarbones and pushing down. Lisa looked so peaceful, breathing long and slow through her nose, the dim light from the sky imposing blue onto her tanned skin. I almost felt sorry that I couldn't be what she was looking for.  
  
After her was the brunette, still the only male in the class. I had to force myself to lay my hands on his shoulders. As I pressed down, there was some tension on his right side, so I repositioned my hands and pushed again. This time, there was a crack and his arm released, falling back a little farther than it had before. He cracked one eye open and our gazes locked for a second. His eyes were a pale brown, framed with thick dark lashes and punctuated by arched brows. He smirked at me, still winking, and breathed, "Thanks."  
  
It was then that I realized I still had both hands on his shoulders. I bit my lips, nodded, and pulled back. I finished going through the rest of the students, we said the sacred ohm, and parted ways. At the end of class, I jotted down everyone who'd been there, and realized I hadn't learned the man's name, and followed after him as he went to get his jacket.  
  
"Um, I didn't catch you name," I spoke as he turned to look at me from over his shoulder.  
  
"Miles," he gave me another grin, adjusting his shorts.  
  
"Cool, cool," I stupidly said, "Um, do you think you'll be coming back?"  
  
I swear he winked at me. "I might."  
  
I didn't say anything else, but I _really_ hoped he would be.  
  
Back in our apartment, I shut the door behind me and leaned back, closing my eyes and breathing out for a long time. Immediately, David could tell something was up. He lowered his pencil, "Waylon, are you alright?"  
  
"I-I..." I stuttered, halfway between shock and ecstasy. "There was... there was a really hot guy in class. And I think he was flirting with me. I don't know. I don't know."  
  
David pulled a sly smile. "Oh, Waylon... what was he like?"  
  
"Fucking smokin'," I had to sit down on the edge of my bed. "Oh my god, he's got a body that won't quit. I swear, I was staring at his ass the whole time, I nearly lost it..."  
  
He smirked and shook his head. "I don't _get_ you. You've already fucking fallen for some dude - "  
  
"I just met him!" I agreed with him in spite of myself. "I swear, I don't know what's wrong with me, I..."  
  
"You're fucked," David did me the honor of summarizing.  
  
"Yes," I exasperatedly said. "I don't care how bad it is, I'm desperate. He might be straight though."  
  
"Straight guys don't do yoga," my roommate pointed out. "Straight guys lift weights."  
  
"He might lift," I mused, "He's got really nice muscles. But he looks too good to be straight. Straight guys don't care that much about their appearances. His eyebrows must be plucked - no one looks that good naturally."  
  
"Maybe he's an angel," David joked, flicking up his eyebrows.  
  
"Shut up," I chucked my pillow at him. "I really hope he's at class on Monday. If not I'll be so sad."  
  
"I'll get Martin to say a rosary for you," David chuckled.  
  
The next three nights, I dreamed of Miles.  
  
I always woke up feeling weirdly intrusive, like I was not in the right to dream about Miles. I barely knew him, for crying out loud, but every night, I'd dream of kissing him, running my fingers though his hair, pressing my body down onto his, reaching my hand down between his legs, rubbing up and down his abs, tasting him in every dimension... I came to in the dark of the night with wet stains marking the front of my sheets.  
  
It was a bit of a predicament.  
  
Monday was my next class and I was more nervous than ever. I'd barely slept the night before - I'd put off all my homework until Sunday night and even when I'd finished the code, thoughts of Miles kept me up. He would be the death of me, and I didn't even know his last name. It wasn't necessarily that I felt something for him, it's what my subconscious was doing to me that was bothering me. And to imagine what he would think if he saw the things I dreamed about...  
  
I felt sick.  
  
Still, I had to go to class - I _was_ getting paid for it. Seeing Lisa seemed like nothing now, even when she smiled and waved. I was waiting for Miles - I'd die if he came to class, and I'd die if he didn't.  
  
I was so fucked.  
  
So, so very fucked.  
  
Sure enough, Miles showed up, more vivid than I ever could've imagined. My heart dropped as our eyes met and he cocked one eyebrow, giving me a smirk that sent shivers down my spine.  
  
Monday's class went no better than the previous one. I wouldn't be surprised if people started transferring. It wasn't my fault; it was a little hard to concentrate with Miles' beautiful rump raised in the air directly in front of me.  
  
This hadn't been intentional. We'd been doing sun salutations and I'd happened to find myself behind Miles as he flipped back into downward dog. His hips were shifted just a tad to one side, and it was pure habit that I reached out and straightened them. I mean, if I hadn't, he could've pulled a muscle or something.  
  
It was about then I realized I was standing behind Miles, holding his hips square in front of me. His legs were spread, loose shorts falling perfectly over the curve of his ass. Images of my fantastical dreams flashed back to me, the image of Miles naked, dark hairs clustering...  
  
 _Oh no._  
  
My ears burned as my gym shorts near instantly tightened and I stepped back, dragging my hands away from Miles' body. It was painfully apparent how happy I was to see him, and I needed a moment. Thinking as quickly as I could, I instructed, "On your next inhale, come to hands and knees, and then down to child's pose." Once I was sure everyone's heads were down, I adjusted my waistband, trying to make myself not look incriminating.  
  
Luckily, there were only about ten minutes left in class and I was able to hide myself for most of that time. I wrapped things up a little early and ducked out before anyone had time to talk to me. I had only two things on my mind - not thinking about Miles and getting the fuck out of there.  
  
Neither of those goals were reached.  
  
As I made my way towards the bathroom, Miles caught up with me and stopped me, cornering me against a wall with one hand blocking my path. He was a lot closer than I was comfortable with. I couldn't bring myself to meet his eyes, but looking at anything else wasn't good either. Those plump lips, the dark shadow of stubble over his cheeks...  
  
"Hey, I, uh..." Miles didn't seemed bothered by this closeness at all. In reality, it would take only a tilt of my chin and we would be kissing; I could feel his breath on my face. There was another stab of fire to my crotch. "I don't know your name."  
  
I was blinking a mile a minute, my gaze darting every direction. "Oh, uh, I'm Waylon..." I spoke a lot faster than normal, not knowing how to react in this situation.  
  
"Waylon," he repeated, relaxing a bit and doing that smirk, always that smirk. Hearing him say my name made me visibly shudder, and everything between my knees and navel ached even more. "I like that. So, do you go to school around here?"  
  
Thank god he was looking at my face, because my arousal was becoming more and more apparent by the second. "Um, I'd love to continue this conversation, but I have to go..." I pulled back a little, shifting and jamming my hands into my pockets. I didn't want to appear rude, but I was doomed staying where I was. "Do you have snapchat or something?"  
  
He grinned, fishing his phone out of his bag in a second. "I do."  
  
"Add me, I'm Waylon1466," I bit my lip and pressed back into the wall. "Waylon with an o..."  
  
"Like this?" Miles showed me his screen.  
  
I nodded hastily, "Yup, I'll add you when I get home. See you on Wednesday?"  
  
He grinned as confirmation. "See you then."  
  
And so I rushed off, ducking into the single bathroom and locking the door firmly behind me.  
  
Oh god. Oh god, this day was both a nightmare and a dream come true.  I had to check the lock three times before I dropped my pants, whacking away at my flush arousal. Miles had been so close, I could still smell his scent lingering on me... I closed my eyes and consciously allowed myself to pretend it was Miles' fingers wrapped around my throbbing manhood, imagine what he would feel like, picture the warmth and wetness of his tongue, swiping loosely...  
  
I needed a fucking shrink.  
  
I crept home, feeling filthy and wrong, slumping into the shower without a word to David. I couldn't fathom why I would be so hung up on Miles. I'd seen plenty of hot guys around California, with their board shorts and shark-tooth necklaces, but Miles was kind of enabling. When I realized he'd probably messaged me by now, I dragged myself out, dressed in pajamas and set up on my bed. Sure enough, I'd been added by a 'Upshurass' and had a snapchat waiting for me. I opened it, feeling giddy as Miles' face filled my screen. He was a fast replier, and his phone took better pictures than my cheap Nexus. Our conversation went a little like this:  
  
Miles: [really sexy picture of his face and shoulders with dramatic side lighting and cat ears drawn on] hey ;P  
Me: [washed out picture of not really my face and some awkward stupid expression] hi! how's ur evening going  
Miles: [sexy boy expression] good, just got back. did u make it wherever in time?  
Me: [another stupid ugly face] oh ya sorry i was in such a rush  
Miles: np  
Miles: sooo are you going to school around here?  
Me: ya, moved from CO to go to berkely  
Miles: [closeup] fukin nerd  
Miles: jk u can do my taxes for me  
Me: [attempts to smile] lol  
Miles: u shoulda gone to itt tech  
Miles: u can go to school online  
Me: [shocked closeup] o  
Miles: stfu  
Me: [even more closeup] O  
Miles: [sends very detailed snapsterpiece of a Thomas the Train drawn around his head]  
  
At his last message, I laughed out loud. It was incredibly realistic, and completely out of context. Thankfully I managed to screenshot it in time, because David demanded, "What's so funny?"  
  
"Oh my god," I yelled very deliberately, waving him over so he sat on the bed next to me. I pulled up the picture, barely able to stifle more laughter.  
  
"Wh-" David choked on his words as he registered the image. "What is this? Who is this? W-Waylon, what are... what? Oh my god..."  
  
"This," I managed between laughs, "is Miles."  
  
"He's a fucking legend..." David was doubled over with laughter. "I swear that's got to be the best snapchat I've ever seen."  
  
I sent him a picture of me and David laughing (it was pretty blurry for effect) with a lot of _HA_ s captioned. I tried to shoo David back to his own bed, but he stayed next to me as Miles replied with a smug smirk and, "Is that your boyfriend?"  
  
David cringed. "Oh god."  
  
"Alright, you've seen him, now go finish your med homework," I shifted away and replied to Miles.  
  
Me: [obviously blushing] no?  
Miles: but u like him?  
Me: NO?  
Miles: but ur gay??  
Me: YES?!  
Miles: cool  
  
It had been that easy. I was out. What had taken me fifteen years to admit to my family had arisen within a matter of minutes with Miles. I didn't know what to say to that. Luckily, he spared me the fear of replying with another message.  
  
Miles: I mean, i kinda figured  
  
I finally mustered my courage and snapped him a picture asking if he was gay.  
  
When he replied with a yes, I almost whooped with joy.  
  
In hindsight, it was probably much too sudden, but I replied with a request to get together sometime. I saw the error in my ways when he replied with, 'slow down, loverboy' and I realized I probably should've suggested meeting up earlier, or later. I just didn't want to lose this.  
  
We chatted for the rest of the night, and my programming homework never got done.


	2. II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I guess some people are reading this. I was really touched by the feedback I got on the first part, so I decided to continue. This chapter's a little short, and the whole story's not gonna be that long, so... yeah! Enjoy :)

We met up the next day for bowling.  
  
Okay, okay, I _know_ that about as cheesy as you can get, but I just wanted something easy and not too high-brow. I still didn't know Miles that well, and I was pretty sure this would be fine in his books. There was a quiet little bowling alley that I'd driven by many times before but never been inside. A little digging revealed they had free bowling on Tuesdays for students. It was meant to be.  
  
After my last class of the day I returned home early and got changed. It was a fall, but I still dressed in a plain white t-shirt and (fairly) skinny jeans. Inspecting my reflection, I deduced that I had never looked so stereotypically gay before in my life. I didn't want to be a try-hard, but I wanted to look nice. Well, nicer than I usually looked. I raked fingers through my mess of curls, leaving them looking no better than before, but it was all I could do.  
  
There _was_ one little thing: I hadn't told David where I was going today. He'd be in a bio lecture until 4:30, so I planned to be back before then. If not, I'd have some explaining to do.  
  
In short: bowling was nice. It was very casual. I was pretty terrible - at least compared to Miles. He bowled a 110, which was pretty damn good in my books. And even in those dorky bowling shoes, Miles looked hot.  
  
After the string, we headed to the alley's bar. Not like an alcoholic one, like a snack bar with fries and coffee and stuff. Miles bought a chocolate milkshake for us to share (I'm sure by now you know how much I blushed he brought his face near mine) and we chatted for a long while. He was pretty laid back and a year older than me, studying journalism at one of the smaller schools in our part of Cali. He was sarcastic and very flirty (oh _god_ , I hoped it was flirting, not just politeness getting misconstrued...) but still funny and easy to be around. By the time he offered to drive me home, I was sure of one thing:  
  
I was falling in love with his man. And there was nothing I could do to stop it.  
  
His Jeep rumbled to life as I sat in the passenger seat, rubbing my hands together and wishing I'd brought a coat. Miles noticed, shooting me a sideways glance. "You okay?"  
  
"Just a little chilly," I admitted, folding my arms in front of me to box in my warmth.  
  
"Here," Miles leaned back and grabbed a sweater from the back seat of his car. "Take this."  
  
My eyes widened. "I... no, it's fine, I'll be fine."  
  
"No," he grinned, "Take it."  
  
I gave in, unbuckling myself and slipping the roomy black hoodie over my head. It was thick and smelled like Miles. I nearly moaned.  
  
Now, let me set something straight - our little get together today hadn't exactly been very sexual, definitely not as sexual as our previous encounters. Yoga was kind of an exposing situation, so it was better to do something more laid back. And I'll admit, yes, I stared at Miles' ass as he went to throw the ball, and I did make a comment about how strong his arm was (we both laughed it off and probably scared the lady in the alley next to us with our flamboyant fapping imitations) but it wasn't anything too deep.  
  
What he was doing now was what was getting to me.  
  
Just the way he looked over, the setting sun casting golden light onto his face, brown eyes flicked with specks the color of goldenrod, as his scent surrounding me and his hand lingering on my thigh. I felt something _change_ inside of me. That's when I knew.  
  
I just hoped he could feel it too.  
  
When we got back to my dorm, he walked me to the door. "Tonight was so fun," I smiled without artifice. "I-I'd like to do it again."  
  
"Me too," Miles smiled, looking so self-confident. "I'll see you at yoga tomorrow?"  
  
"Yup," I was rocking back and forth on my feet with nervousness. Tentatively, I added, "I can't wait."  
  
"Neither can I," he winked ever so slightly and leaned in just a little. My gaze shot down to his mouth and back to his eyes, and I waited.  
  
But he withdrew, shrugging on his coat. "I'll see you then." And then, gentler, "Goodnight."  
  
"Goodnight..." I pathetically called after as he walked down the hall and I leaned back, resting all my weight on the door behind me.  
  
I wished he'd kissed me.  
  
I stumbled back into my dorm kind of starstruck, still feeling the general warmth coming from my core at everything Miles had said and done. It had been so long since I'd been on a date, it was kind of nice to feel wanted again.  
  
However, when I entered, David was sitting on the couch looking very expectantly at me.  
  
 _Shit._  
  
"Who was that?" he asked, very clearly having heard my conversation from just outside the door.  
  
"Miles," I answered unsurely.  
  
Confusion was clear on David's face. "You... you went on a date with him?" When I didn't respond, he took it as a yes. "Waylon, you started talking to him yesterday. And you've known him since Friday. Don't you think this is a little sudden? Don't you think - " he cut himself off, squinting at me. "Is that his sweater?"  
  
"No," I lied, wrapping my arms around myself.  
  
"It is," David's voice rose a little.  
  
"No!" I don't know why I was defending myself. "I mean, it's up to me who I date. And last night you seemed to like Miles just fine! Didn't - didn't you say that I should try to put myself out there? Whatever happened to 'you should get someone new?' I-isn't this what I was supposed to be doing?"  
  
"I dunno, at least... at least get to _know_ the guy first," David was on his feet now, standing at full height over me. "I-I don't want you to go and... fuck the first hot guy you meet just to say I told you so. Y-you just _met_ Miles! He could be a serial killed for all we know!"  
  
"David, I'm a grown man," I stood at full height, still a few inches shorter than him. "I can take care of myself."  
  
"I just..." his temper broke and he fell back onto the couch, covering his face with both palms. "I don't... I don't want someone taking advantage of you, Way... I don't want to see you get hurt."  
  
I couldn't stay mad at him. Mostly because we slept in the same room, and that wouldn't work out very well. "Hey..." I knelt before him, dropping my voice a few decibels and touching his arm. "I can keep myself safe, right?"  
  
"I only - "  
  
I cut him off, repeating, " _It's okay_. And I can ask for help if I need it. But you need to trust me on this one... a-alright?"  
  
He looked up to meet my gaze, and after a long silence, agreed, "Alright."  
  
I felt a little better with David's blessing, but what he'd said was worrying me a little. What if all this flirting was just an act? I seriously doubted that Miles would... _take advantage_ of me, but now I was scared he might send me nudes. Or ask me for nudes. I'd never been in that situation before, and I didn't really know what to do. Regardless, I knew that David had spoken true - he _did_ care about me and he'd take care of me if the opportunity arose, but that night I was a little worried about seeing Miles again.  
  
All that worry vanished when he sauntered into yoga class the next day.  
  
Everything felt better now. We chatted lightly before class started and it didn't feel wrong anymore to look at Miles. I knew he'd be doing the same if I were in his position. The heat was turned up extra high in the studio tonight, and I loved to watch the sweat bead on Miles' brow, I loved to watch the way he'd bite his lip whenever he started to get tired, I loved the way his muscles would visibly tighten as he moved from position to position.  
  
This was how I imagined he'd be during sex.  
  
I realized about halfway through that I was kind of neglecting my other students and spread out, circling the room, no longer afraid to look at Lisa, to speak quietly to her about how she could get more out of this pose.  
  
It was one of the best classes I'd had in weeks.  
  
This time, I hung around for a little while, standing by my mat and talking to a few of the new girls that had just been trying it out for the first time. Lisa and I made eye contact and she smiled openly, waving as she exited the room. As the girls went to pack their stuff up, Miles beelined towards me.  
  
"So, about getting together again..." Miles after yoga was completely different from the Miles I'd gone on a date with yesterday. Well, not completely, but now he sounded so much calmer, like everything was alright. Even more confident, if that was possible. As he walked up to me, he didn't stop, continuing to get closer and closer until our bodies were almost touching. I couldn't move as he grabbed my face in his hands, pulling me closer until his mouth covered mine in a sudden flurry of passion.  
  
I didn't know what to do. There wasn't really anything I _could_ do. Miles' essence overwhelmed me, clogging every one of my senses until I was broken, my will dissolving into _'I'm yours, I'm yours, I'm yours.'_  
  
Finally, as Miles started to pull back, I came to enough to react, meeting his eyes for the briefest of seconds. I was painfully aware that the studio was still full of my students, all of which were most likely watching this interaction go down, but right now I didn't care. I closed the gap between us, this time moving in and meeting Miles' lips with my own, linking my arms around his waist and pushing up onto my toes, every piece of doubt from before gone. Miles' lips parted slowly and again I gave in, leaning farther into his touch, hands searching for something to hang on to.  
  
After what felt like a long time, I had to draw back to breathe, and all I wanted to do was kiss Miles again. My tiny heart pounded in my chest and my entire body burned with excitement. Even the few inches of space between us seemed like too much. He half lidded his eyes, brushing my nose with his and squeezing my cheek with an, "I'll call you."  
  
And just like that, he was gone.  
  
I was left in shock, not knowing how to react. Miles - the one and only Miles - had kissed me, in front of our whole class. And just ran off. It was doing things to my mind that I didn't know were possible. Did he want me? Because by the way he easily dominated my mouth, it sure seemed that way. I wished he would just be straightforward, like Eddie had been, but...  
  
He'd said he'd call me. That was a start.  
  
The girls that had stuck around to see it ' _aww'_ ed and clutched their hands. One of the braver ones spoke up, "Is he your boyfriend?"  
  
Not wanting to go into detail, I carded fingers through my hair, giving them a flustered look and answering, "I'm hoping he will be soon."  
  
She and her friends beamed before walking out and I had to sit down for a while to clear my head. I wanted to treasure every moment of my kiss with Miles, but it all seemed like a blur. A hot, languid passionate blur. I thought about his hoodie, a size too big for me, waiting in the locker room for me to return home. I thought about his soft lips. I thought about his chocolatey brown eyes. I thought about every strand of hair and every fiber of his being.  
  
I was fucking in love.  



	3. III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wtf even is this chapter smh  
> I'm really not happy with this, I rewrote parts of it an bunch of times and it still feels fucking pointless. :'c but I want to go somewhere with this. I think this is the second last chapter. I think. Whatever, enjoy :*

He didn't call me until Thursday night, and until that time, I was at ends with myself.  
  
I hadn't planned on telling David about what had happened at yoga, but he heard me moaning Miles' name in my sleep again and the next morning I had a lot of explaining to do. He still didn't exactly approve - his suspicions were just being confirmed by me freaking out. I had to check my phone every few mintues to make sure I hadn't missed him. I kept telling myself I just needed answers.  
  
When he finally did call, I was nearly brought to orgasm just by the sound of his voice.  
  
"Miles, what the fuck are you doing to me," I facepalmed with my free hand. "Just... do you want to be my boyfriend or not?"  
  
"Wow, you're suddenly very forward," he faked surprise and then laughed. "Oh wait, you always were."  
  
"Just answer the damn question," my ears were burning with frustration and excitement.  
  
He breathed in for a very long time, "Well, we just met a few weeks ago..."  
  
"You fucking kissed me in front of all my yoga students," I reminded him, "And Jesus Christ, I can't stop thinking about it, I... I want you to be my boyfriend, Miles, I want to spend every second of every day with you because you make me feel like maybe my life could be half-decent if I started making some smart decisions."  
  
Miles was silent after my little tirade. "Waylon... I want to be your boyfriend too."  
  
My breathing sounded deafening. "So this is official?"  
  
"Well, we just have to make it official, don't we?" Miles sounded like he was teasing, but I didn't understand.  
  
"W-what do you mean?" I asked.  
  
"Come over to my place. Don't worry, it's nothing crazy, I just wanna have dinner with you," he sounded so casual, but almost as an afterthought, he added, "But if things go well, we'll be having breakfast too."  
  
My breath sped up and my face surely reddened. Somehow, I managed to play cool over the phone. "Do you always fuck guys before you call them your boyfriend?"  
  
"No, you're special," he taunted, then laughed. "Dude, I just wanna spend some more time with you, okay? I promise it won't be awkward."  
  
I puffed air out of my nose, leaning back onto the wall for support. "Are you sure? 'Cause I'm capable of being pretty awkward."  
  
 "It'll be fun," he chuckled, "Don't dick this up, Park. You're cute, I don't want us to end here."  
  
"Me either," I admitted, suddenly feeling very conscious of my social skills. Or lack there of. "So... tomorrow night?"  
  
"I'll bring you back to my place after yoga," he decided. "It's only a few blocks away, so we can walk."  
  
"Alright, I... I'll see you then," I was nearly out of breath with excitement.    
  
This was really happening.  
  
As you could imagine, David was less than enthused when I warned him on Friday that I was going out for the night. It was obvious I was going to Miles' - I didn't have many other friends, and there definitely wasn't anywhere else I would sleep over.  
  
"Just... don't let him force you into something you're not ready for," David was a lot more serious than he usually was. "I _worry_ about you, Way. And if you feel uncomfortable for even a second, I'll come over, and I'll kick his ass and we'll come back here and watch Scrubs until we fall asleep."  
  
"David, I'll be fine," I assured him, laughing and wetting my lips. "I'll call you if I need anything. But I know how to deal."  
  
"Alright, have fun at yoga," David pulled a face and waved me off. As I made my way to the door, he followed, lowering his voice. "But really. Be careful. Like... say no if you don't want it. And if you're going to, use... protection..."  
  
I could see how painful this was for him to say. Being from the south, I was the first openly gay person he'd met, and he'd never been fully comfortable with my sexuality. He usually liked to take it more as a joke. I  gave him the most convincing look I could muster and assured him, "Don't worry, I will."  
  
What came next was the hardest part. I'd known for a while that I'd have to, and I was dreading it, but what it would instill had to be worth it. I popped into a drug store on my way to yoga, keeping my head down and buying a pack of condoms, avoiding eye contact with the cashier. Just the fact that she knew I was getting laid tonight felt way too personal for me. I buried the box at the bottom of my backpack where it could stay hidden for yoga class.  
  
Class was fine; I was back to being a little scatterbrained, and every time I'd walked by Miles, I'd feel everyone in the class's eyes follow me. While I taught, I kept myself from looking too closely at him, knowing I'd been unable to resist his ever-present charm.  
  
Once the class was over, I let myself indulge.  
  
As everyone rolled up their mats and prepared to leave, I let my eyes lock on Miles, taking him in his full glory. The shadow of stubble over his cheeks hinted that he hadn't shaved in probably a few days. He was wearing his usual yoga ensemble: (very) loose fitting tank top and baggy basketball shorts. His tank today was cut out in the sides, revealing ribs and sometimes dipping to show his nipples.  
  
Oh god, I was already getting myself excited.  
  
We walked together to the locker room where I pulled my street clothes out of the locker, suddenly feeling very self conscious. Did he expect me to change in front of him? Is that what pending boyfriends do? I'd always had my own stupid body issues, and David and I had gotten over that in the first few weeks of living together. Still, I had to change when he wasn't there, or in the bathroom if I was gonna strip down naked, or at least with my back to him.  
  
Trying to act casual, I turned my shoulder away from Miles, hunching a little and kicking off my shorts and pulling on acid wash skinny jeans. They took longer than I would've liked to get up over my ass, but I didn't feel too uncomfortable. I knew Miles was watching me, but... I kind of liked it.  
  
He let out a little sound of amusement when I pulled his sweater out of the locker and pulled it over my head. "So that's yours now?"  
  
I stuffed my hands in the big front pouch. "Seems like it. It looks better on me anyway."  
  
He grinned with a flick of his eyebrows. "You have a point." He changed very openly in front of me, taking off his shirt (which hadn't been hiding much in the first place) and succeeding in flooring me. He had a gorgeous body - even tan, punctuated abs, a dark trail of hairs dipping down from his navel...  
  
I was so thirsty.  
  
His fashion sense suggested he was a fucking douchebag (honestly - he put on a backwards snapback that read "the Studman" across the front) but by now I knew him better than that. We walked the darkening streets of California to his house, the gentle chill of late November making me shrug into my borrowed sweater just a little more. Of course, he noticed my movements - he was very perceptive. "Babe, you chilly?" He didn't wait for me to answer before throwing an arm over my shoulders and pulling me into his side. He was always so warm.  
  
Maybe I was just cold.  
  
"You're gonna fucking save me," I mumbled, pressing into his touch and throwing one arm around his waist to pull myself in.  
  
He opened his mouth and then shut it again, chuckling a little and giving me a squeeze. "I try."  
  
After a moment of silence, my worry got the best of me and I verbalized my concerns. "Listen, if tonight doesn't go well, I... I'm sorry. I never had many friends, I just... I want things to be okay."  
  
"Way," I shuddered at his nickname for me. Again, he laughed a little. "Honestly, don't worry. I'm so chill, you don't even understand. It'll be fine."  
  
I leaned even farther into his touch. I was a cuddler. "Thanks... _babe_ ," I didn't feel too uncomfortable using pet names with him, although it did seem like a little of a joke.  
  
Miles' apartment was a few blocks away from the yoga studio, a bit of a nicer place than mine. He lived on the top story with a one bedroom apartment, and no roommate to speak of. He had a bit of a dining room area set up, a square table with a nice red tablecloth and a single candle in the middle.  
  
I let out a low whistle. "You sure know how to do romance."  
  
He took off his hat and chucked it at me. "Shut up. What do you want to eat?"  
  
I blinked at him, not knowing what to say. "Um. I dunno."  
  
"Come on," he waltzed into his little kitchen area, looking back at me. "You gotta think of something!"  
  
"I'm really not picky," I shrugged and clasped my hands together in front of me. "Really. Oh, I am vegetarian though, so... s-so preferably something that's not meat."  
  
"Alright, vegetarian," he repeated after me, opening the fridge and stooping over. "So... how does spaghetti sound?"  
  
"Good," I looked around his apartment. "Can I help?"  
  
"Sure," he stepped back from the fridge with a green pepper and stalk of celery in one hand. His vegetable choice raised my appreciation for him to a whole new level. "I'm gonna cut these up, can you start the pasta?"  
  
I ducked by him and opened up cupboards, looking for a pot to cook the spaghetti itself in. Miles laid a pitcher of water on the counter in front of me as I finally grabbed a pan and set in on the stove, turning on the burner. I combed fingers through my hair, looking for the noodles. Miles passed me the box, which I dispensed into the pot.  
  
I took over the veggie dealing while he searched his cupboards for possible tomato sauce options. He ended up mixing tomato paste, soup and a little bit of salsa, which tasted pretty damn good for being so last minute.  
  
Just as we were going to add the vegetables, Miles wrinkled his nose. "Is something burning?"  
  
Not a second after he spoke, his smoke detector blared to life, loud enough to make me jump. It took me a second to figure out where the smoke was coming from, but realization came over me as I looked at the stove.  
  
I'd forgotten to put water in the spaghetti.  
  
I fucked up.  
  
"Jesus Christ!" Miles exclaimed, laughing and covering his face with his arm, grabbing the pot and pouring the now burnt spaghetti into the sink where he doused it with water, causing a satisfying hiss. He threw a towel at me (which I struggled to catch and ended up dropping to the floor), giving me the instruction, "Wave it by the smoke detector. It should stop in a second."  
  
I shook the towel with fervor, covering my ear from the excessive noise. He was right - it stopped after a little while. And I sighed, facepalming and collapsing in on myself. "I'm sorry. I'm fucking stupid. Just... sorry."  
  
He laughed out loud. "You're a hoot, Waylon. A hoot an a half."  
  
But I couldn't just laugh it off. I felt fucking useless; I wanted to sink into the floor and die. I exhaled for a long time a shoot my head, covering my face. He noticed my sudden decline and stepped closer. "Hey. _Waylon_. It's alright."  
  
"I'm sorry," I started to say, but he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into an embrace, cutting off my words as he pressed my face into his shoulder.  
  
"It's not a big deal, I promise," he spoke over my shoulder, rubbing my back. "Let's order pizza and get drunk."  
  
I thought he was joking.  
  
As he went to find his computer, I collapsed on one of his couches, emotionally exhausted. I was trying so hard to be perfect for him, but the more I tried, the less I actually was. Thank god he was willing to put up with me.  
  
After a moment, he came back with a laptop - something Apple, I recognized, probably a MacBook - and sat down perpendicular to me on the couch. "What do you like on your pizza?" he shot me a quick glance.  
  
"Um, it really doesn't matter," I admitted, still nervously shifting. "Cheese?"  
  
"Cheese it is," he answered with a smirk. There were taps and clicks and our order was placed. He put on ' _Say Yes to the Dress: Atlanta'_ while we waited for the pizza to arrive (we were both avid fans of the show. See: gay guy things) and I was generally getting more comfortable around Miles. He would crack jokes now and then and I brought out some sass that I'd picked up from living with David. It was a pretty good time. When the apartment buzzed with the arrival of the pizza, we got up and settled down at his dinner table.  
  
Miles went to retrieve the pizza and pay the delivery man, and I waited at the table, admiring the ornate red tablecloth stretched over it. Miles came back and nudged a switch on the wall with his elbow, shutting off the lights in the living room and casting a yellowish glow on the red walls around us. He set the pizza box down and lit the candle, tapping his iPhone to start soft music playing from speakers I hadn't noticed before. I was even more surprised when he pulled out a bottle of wine and set two glasses on the table.  
  
He was serious about getting me drunk.  
  
"Here's to us," Miles popped the cork out of the wine and poured us both a glass, lifting his in a toast. "And a relationship that will hopefully go the distance."  
  
I was a little surprised at what he was saying, but awkwardly raised my glass in my right (wrong) hand and clinked it to his. The wine he'd picked out was good - I wasn't much of a drinker, but it was pretty tasty.  
  
The pizza was good, and we casually chatted as we ate. It was a little ironic, such a casual meal in such a classy environment. Miles helped me to more wine, and as the night went on, I didn't notice myself getting tipsy.  
  
"Okay okay okay," Miles put down his half-eaten third piece of pizza. "So who's that guy you're living with?"  
  
"David?" I furrowed my eyebrows, unable to ponder why Miles would want to know about him. "Oh, he's just some guy. He's in med school. Was lookin' for a roommate around the time I moved here so, why... why not, right?"  
  
Miles chuckled, "He's pretty cute, doncha think?"  
  
"Yeah," I slurred and beamed, and then caught myself, "No. I mean, he's not - he's straight. He's from Oklahoma," I stumbled over the word, "So I'm - he's not allowed to be gay. Why're you even saying that, isn't this supposed to be a date with me?"  
  
"Yeah, just trying to make small talk," he shrugged. "Do you think much about your future?" he continued to prompt. "Like, d'you know what you're going to do after college?"  
  
"Not really," I shrugged, feeling very distracted, my minded dulled by the alcoholic cloud. "I like... computers. I'll probably go back to Colorado once I've got my degree, and I - I'd like to settle down. Nothin' crazy, I don't want, like, a crazy life. Get married 'n stuff." I looked over at him, admiring how shiny and pink his lips were. They were my favorite lips. I wanted him to kiss me again. "What about you. Wanna have kids?"  
  
"Well, we can't really have kids... we're gay," he pointed out. I wasn't sure if when he said _we_ he meant having children with me, or just acknowledging that I was gay as well. "But I dunno. I could think about adoption. I don't ever really see myself settling down, though."  
  
My kind was already wandering again, and I looks down at my empty glass. "Do you have any more wine?"  
  
"You might want to slow down there, bud," he warned. "I didn't know you were a lightweight."  
  
I scoffed. "What? Nooo, I just... I haven't... drunk... much... like, like in the _past_."  
  
"I think you've had enough," Miles smirked. "I wouldn't want to take advantage of you while you were so helpless..."  
  
"Maybe I'd like it..." I drawled, leaning hard on my good hand. "I swear to god after my last boyfriend, you honestly can't be any worse..."  
  
"Well, I... I want to be good," Miles reached across the table and stroked my cheek.  
  
I hiccuped. "Well, my last boyfriend though I would be better as a woman so you're already off to a better start than him." The words slipped out before I could stop them. I sobered up considerably, catching myself, "I mean..."  
  
I felt the atmosphere change, Miles' arched eyebrows curving up. "What...?  
  
"Miles, I..." I pulled back from his touch, suddenly painfully aware of what I had revealed. "Just forget it, I shouldn't have said that."  
  
"No, it's fine, I just... I don't understand... what..." his eyes darted down to the table. "It's okay, you can tell me."  
  
"No, no I can't," I shook my head. "Can we just - leave it? _Please_?"  
  
Miles looked at me in silence for a second before nodding and shifting again, "Okay. But if you need to talk about something with me... you can."  
  
"Ok," I hesitantly agreed. "But really, I'm... fine."

Somehow I knew this wasn't going to be the end of it.  
  
Miles put the rest of the pizza in the fridge and we migrated into the front room. I was still a little tipsier than I would've liked to be, but my little slip up had reminded me to watch my tongue.  
  
"Miles, why did you ask me out?" I asked, playing with my hands in my lap. "I mean, like, you're way out of my league."  
  
"You're a cutie," he pointed out. "I mean, you've got a nice ass. I haven't met many gay guys since I moved here, but I could kinda tell. Seriously, who else would teach yoga?"  
  
"Why were you even taking yoga?" I furrowed my brow, hugging a pillow to my chest. "You're a babe."  
  
"I was taking yoga because I thought it sounded interesting," he honestly answered. "I'm glad I did. You're a good teacher."  
  
"You're a good student," I half-slurred, mind wandering and changing the subject, "What was your last boyfriend like?"  
  
"Hm, you know this is, like, our second date, and it seems a little early to be talking about exes," Miles examined his hands. "But you asked, I'll tell ya. I've always moved around a lot, and the last place I was for any long amount of time was Denver. I had a high school boyfriend named Billy, kind of a spacey kid, a year younger than me, always a little depressed. He was like a stereotypical emo boy, dresses better than most girls, black messy hair and snakebites? I don't really have a type, but I was with him for a while. He was kind of seriously depressed though." Miles pulled a face. "But I had to leave him behind when I moved to California.  
  
"My last boyfriend was a few months ago, just after I first got here, called Jeremy. He was from a really rich family, but he was kind of a bad boy. Like, he'd do anything for money, and he was used to getting his way. There were never many emotions between us, and it was mostly for the sex. It wasn't bad, though."  
  
"Wooooow," my eyebrows rose high on my forehead. "You're kinda a playboy."  
  
"Oh, I just can't keep it in my pants," he joked, but I felt my face heat up. "And you're the one who asked. Also, I'm gonna ask again, but you don't have to answer - I'm just really fucking curious about your ex-boyfriend."  
  
I gave him a look, sitting up all the way before physically deflating and covering my face. "Promise not to judge?"  
  
"Cross my heart," he enacted the moment before locking his eyes on me. He looked like he needed a bag of popcorn.  
  
I started slowly, trying to gather my thoughts in my fogged mind. "I've only ever had one boyfriend - back for two and a half years in high school. We were really serious. Most of the time, he was pretty loving. He always had a compliment or two for me. He really put me on a pedestal, and kind of made me out to be better than everyone else. Which was nice at the time, I didn't have many friends.  
  
"He... he wasn't comfortable with being gay. Everything we did had to be away from school, and away from his family. No one really knew 'bout us. At the beginning of senior year, I... I let him fuck me. That's really when things started to get worse. Immediately after, he started telling me about what a... beautiful woman I would make. He-he called me vulgar, 'cause I'm a man. He had this fantasy that I'd bear him children. And he was _obsessed_. A-and when I didn't want to, he'd accuse me of cheating, or wanting to leave him. Call me a whore. Oh my god, so many times. I just..."  
  
It was only then that I realized how much had slipped out. Miles had listened intently to every word I'd said, and had his brow furrowed. My face got hot and I put my head down again. "Oh my god, I shouldn't have said that..."  
  
"No, no, it's okay," he replied very quickly. "I-I mean, I don't care. I'm sorry. That you had to deal with him, I mean."  
  
"It's fine, I-I didn't know any better at the time," I looked down at the floor, suddenly feeling very young and naive next to Miles.  
  
"Come here," he got to his feet and opened his arms, waiting expectantly. When I stood, he took me into a hug, pressing my face into his shoulder. I felt so good in Miles' arms... I took a deep breath in and then a full breath out, letting myself collapse into the embrace. "I really like you, Waylon. You're a better guy than most I've met, and I don't want to stop seeing you. I don't want _this_..." he squeezed me a little tighter, "to change."  
  
"Neither do I," I sighed, sliding my arms around his waist and pulling my smaller body onto his, soaking in his heat. If he could see me being the fuckup I was and still call me cute, he was a keeper.  
  
We ended up spending the rest of the evening cuddling on the couch and watching ' _I Love You, Man'_ until all the light was faded from the sky. Miles straightened up, stretching and bending his back. "You ready for bed?"  
  
I thought I knew what he was talking about. I dipped my head, cheeks reddening a little. "Uh, yeah..."  
  
He motioned me towards what must've been his bedroom, and I made sure to grab my backpack. I entered Miles' bedroom, a pretty nice dark sanctuary, walls adorned with newspaper clippings. I sat down on his bed, trying not to feel too awkward. He'd detoured to the bathroom, and I didn't know what to do with myself. I wasn't sure whether I was supposed to undress, or wait for him to do it for me. Should I have bought lube? I cringed at the thought, I'd barely had the confidence to buy condoms. And should I get them out now? My face was on fire with embarrassment.  
  
I was a fucking child.  
  
Miles wandered back a minute later, the most painful minute of my life, flossing his teeth and now wearing pajama pants and a loose tee. He seemed a little surprised to find me still in my day clothes. "Are you gonna sleep in that, or...?"  
  
Feeling so self-conscious, I ducked my head, "No, I, uh... I just didn't know what we were going to do now... sorry..."  
  
It was obvious how nervous I was, and he came over and stood before me, angling my head up towards him and gentling bringing his lips to mine. It was that easy for him to take my breath away. He moved back just a centimeter, brushing a strand of hair back behind my ear. " _Hey_. It's alright."  
  
"I know, I know," I looked down and then back up, feeling a rush of bravery and tilting my head forwards so I could kiss him again. In my best attempt at being teasing, I tried, "I just wasn't sure if you were gonna do it for me..."  
  
My phrasing was humiliatingly bad, but he got the idea. He slipped his fingers under his hoodie, pulling it up over my head, leaning back for a second to get it fully off. He left my yoga tee on still, and I couldn't help but squirm a little. I waited for him to go to work on my pants, but he didn't seem to be going for it, so I undid the button and shimmied out of them on my own. I looked at Miles expectantly, adjusting the waistband of my underwear.  
  
I was waiting for him to make the first move.  
  
And I'd be waiting for a while.  
  
Eventually, I tossed my jeans fully off the bed and crawled over to where he sat down, sloppily taking his face in my hands and kissing him on his mouth, trying to work myself into passion. It wasn't really working - I was feeling too nervous, embarrassed and out of character to have any serious sexual feelings.  
  
Miles shifting, laughing a little into the kiss. "Babe, what are you doing...?"  
  
"I'm trying to prove my worth," I mumbled, hands still cupping his face.  
  
"I..." he snickered again. "I said we were going to sleep..."  
  
I froze. I hadn't caught on until that exact moment that he didn't plan to fuck me on this night. My face grew even redder, if possible, and I suddenly felt very exposed, my half-hard dick jutting disgustingly out of my boxers. I retracted entirely pulling my hands into my lap and tugging down my shirt. "Oh my god. _Oh my god._ I-I thought we... I thought..."  
  
"Waylon, it was a _joke_ ," at least he found my stupidity amusing. "I'm sorry if you thought I was serious. I just... we met a week ago. I'm sorry, if you want, I'll suck your dick, but don't feel like you have to rush into things."  
  
"Oh sweet Jesus," I covered my face with one hand. "I-I went out and bought fucking _condoms_... what was I thinking?!"  
  
"Hey, hey," he brushed my hand off my face and stroked my cheek. "Listen. It's okay. Really. I want you to be my boyfriend. You're so sweet, I... how could I say no? I just want you to feel comfortable. So, from now on, you can tell me if I'm doing something too quickly."  
  
"Okay..." I nodded, biting my lip. "Okay."  
  
He leaned over and kissed my forehead, tussling my hair and then turning off the dim lamp beside me. "Goodnight, Waylon," he murmured into the back of my neck, curling on his side around me and limply throwing one arm over my shoulder. I could feel the warmth of his body behind me, the gentle puffs of breath on my nape, the slight rise and fall of his chest. I hadn't spooned with anyone in a long time, but I couldn't say I didn't like it. I found the sound of Miles' breathing very comforting, and found myself calming down, even though my mind was still reeling with embarrassment. But Miles was very comfortable. I was still burning with absolute shame at myself, but there was nothing I could do to change it.  
  
"I really do like you, Miles," I murmured, not sure if he was still awake. I wanted to kiss him again, but wasn't really in a position to do so, so I settled for pressing back into his embrace a little more.  
  
I was asleep without even thinking about it.


	4. IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty folks, this is the end. Finally. Please accept some badly written smut as a finally offering. Now I'm gonna go hide under my desk.. weeh...

I'd always been a vivid dreamer. I think it was all the meditation I did during the day, or maybe my brain just wanted an escape from the endless hours of programming I put it through. Either way, everything that went through my mind at night seemed incredibly lucid.  
  
This wasn't exactly a good thing.  
  
It had been a few days since Miles had starred in one of my dreams - I hadn't wanted to set any false expectations for this date, which had turned out nothing like I was preparing for.  
  
Regardless of how my real life was, in this dream, I was going to sate my desire for Miles, once and for all. Yup, you got it - he was holding me down, fucking me hard enough to make me cry out. I was biting my own arm to staunch the pleasure (in the waking world as well, I'd later find out) and crying as it felt as if he was going to split my hips wide open. But I was ready, I wanted him to fill me until I couldn't take anymore, I couldn't last any longer -  
  
I was shaken into the waking world again by Miles' arm on my forearm, shattering the dream into a million pieces. I pitched forward into the near-black of the bedroom, almost falling off the bed in the process. I was still panting, taking a few seconds to distinguish the differences from the dreams and reality, and it was about then that I became painfully aware off my rock hard dick, smearing wetness into the front of my boxers.  
  
Fuck me, right?  
  
Miles' voice was beautifully hoarse in the night, "A-are you okay?"  
  
I made sure to keep my hips hidden well in the covers. "W... what do you mean?"  
  
He sat up a little in bed. "You were calling my name. I thought you needed help."  
  
"Oh, oh no," I tried to ignore each pump of blood to my crotch. "I guess I must've been... dreaming."  
  
This answer seemed enough for the time being, but I sure as hell wasn't going back to sleep any time soon. No, no, I was too far gone to go back. Miles settled back around me, arms caging me in, and I knew I wouldn't have the chance to slip away.  
  
Slowly, as casually as I could, I slid one hand under the covers and into my boxers. It was the only sensible thing I could do. I let out a small gasp at the feeling of my own skin, seeming cool to the flushed surface. Miles, still mostly awake, shifted, "Hey, are you sure..." Even in the middle of the night, he senses were sharp and he caught on fast. He laughed out loud. "Oh my god, _Waylon_..."  
  
"Stop it!" I was glad the room was dark: he couldn't see my furious blush. "It's not my fault!"  
  
"It's fine," he sounded so chill, laughing it off. How could he do that? He dissolved into laughs, "I just didn't think I'd wake up to hear you fapping..."  
  
I would've hit him if the situation had been different, but now all I wanted to do was cry. I didn't know I was capable of this much embarrassment. I was fucking stupid, I didn't deserve to be here, I...  
  
Miles noticed my shift in attitude and shifted closer, easing his voice into a gentler tone, "Waylon, honestly, it's alright."  
  
"I'm sorry," I breathlessly whispered, halfway between ecstasy and rock bottom.  
  
There was a short pause before Miles' hand found its way onto my hip. "You know... if you wanted, I could... _help_."  
  
I shuddered at the suggestiveness in his voice and experienced another stab of fire to my groin. I wasn't really in the mood for kidding around. I deadpanned him, "You're joking?"  
  
He straightened up a little. "I'm serious," he continued to rub my hip. "If you... if you want me to."  
  
This was a predicament. Of course my first instinct was to say yes - I was fucking horny and half asleep, and this was probably my only chance with a hot guy. But the realist in me was telling me to wait: I didn't sleep around and I barely knew Miles. What if he didn't turn out like I thought he would be?  
  
But I didn't want to leave tonight with any regrets.  
  
"Okay..." I finally said, shifting so I was sitting up too. "Okay."  
  
Miles was eager - without any hesitation, he leaned over and kissed me, slipping the covers off and pushing me up so my back was pressed to his headboard. I wetted my lips nervously as he knelt before me, splitting my knees down to either side and making my hard-on all the more apparent. My face was red hot and I could only make out his silhouette as he ran his fingers over my slim hips, toying with the waistband of my boxers for a second before sliding them down. The coolness of my room hit me in a wash and I puffed air out of my nose, squeezing my eyes shut a little.  
  
Slowly, he started taking me in. I pressed back into the mahogany wood behind me, taking the collar of my shirt into my mouth and biting down hard to keep from making too much noise. He was forwards in a deep bend as he lowered his head into my lap, only moving by an inch at a time. His warm tongue was thick and wet surrounding my dick, and his lips were unbearably soft as his slid up and down. He picked a pace and kept to it, bobbing in and out, sending me bending my neck back and letting out a whine high in my throat.  
  
He sure seemed to know what he was doing, each tiny ministration bending me entirely to his will. This was my first time on the receiving end of a blowjob, and the ones I'd given before had not been nearly this skilled. No, Miles knew how to move his mouth onto my most sensitive spots very evenly each time, he knew how to tighten the corners of his mouth to get the most effective suck possible. I was lucky.  
  
And _god_ , it was so much better than I'd ever imagined.  
  
It didn't take him very long to finish me off, especially at the sight of him reaching down the front of his own shorts and letting out little grunts that vibrated straight up my spine. He could sense as I reached my climax, as I started to squirm at the bubbling in my lowest belly, and I cried out in the dark and I slammed my spine back into the bed and pressed my dick farther into Miles' mouth, warning him, "Miles, I... I'm gonna - "  
  
But instead of pulling away, as I expected him to do, he reached forwards and grabbed my balls, giving the littlest squeeze and pushing me all the way over the edge. He let out a moan as thick gobs of my semen splattered over his lips and into his willing mouth, only causing me to jerk more, emptying my store entirely into his mouth. He swallowed every bit, licking his lips for good measure and sending me a smirk as I finished.  
  
As I came down from my peak, my personality returned and I covered my face, shaking still with ecstasy but every limb feeling weak. I felt like a child next to him, but mostly because I'd never had the chance to do something like this before. Eddie had never showed my manhood any attention (besides calling it vulgar) and after kind of sex, I'd always be left to finish myself off. And I had given head before, albeit much sloppier than Miles, but I would've done anything for Eddie.  
  
That's why I felt so sick. I didn't want Miles too feel like I had.  
  
He crawled up next to me, snorting a little laugh and running his fingers through my hair. They caught in a tangle and he rubbed the top of my head just a bit. "Was I that good?" His tone was teasing, but I wasn't in the mood for jokes. When I kept my face covered, still quivering, he caught on and dropped the act, moving back a little and softening his voice. "Waylon, I... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. I should've known this was too quick for you, I - "  
  
I peeked out at him from behind my hands. "Did I do okay?"  
  
I watched his features shift with confusion. "What do you mean? O-of course you - "  
  
I sniffed and licked my lips, emotion finally reaching me. I'd always been extra sensitive after sex. When the tears came, they weren't rational - I didn't regret anything, I was feeling more in love with Miles than ever. But it was a big step. Things were getting serious, and that's what I'd wanted for so long. When I leaned onto Miles, pressing my face into his bare chest, I could still sense his disorientation, but he still hugged me and rubbed my back.  
  
"I-I just..." I sobbed into his chest. "I'm not crying 'cause of you... I-I'm sorry for all this, I'm stupid, I shouldn't - "  
  
"Hey," he squeezed my shoulder. " _Hey_. Please don't cry."  
  
I looked up at him with rheumy eyes and whispered loudly, "I just don't want to force you into anything."  
  
At this, he laughed a little and cupped my face with his hands. " _Waylon_. I wouldn't have volunteered if I didn't want to. I just want you to be happy."  
  
I nodded, trying to force a smile but still crying. "I am. I'm so so ha-appy, I can't..." I broke down again, feeling even more embarrassed at myself (which was barely possible). Somehow, in the darkness, he managed to pull me off his chest and slowly guided my head up until our mouths met, starting what would grow into a long, languid kiss. He didn't need to say anything - somehow, he was able to portray every second of thought he'd ever had about me into that one moment of love. It seemed to last forever, and I wished I could've fallen asleep with our lips still touching, but eventually we broke apart and he told me, "I don't want this to end any time soon."  
  
Some time very shortly after that, I must've blacked out, and the next thing I was conscious of was when I came too, sprawled across Miles' chest with my head resting directly over his heart.  Sun shone in the window, tracing his contour and defining the shadows of torso. Slowly, I pulled myself up off of him and out of the bed, stretching my sore back and rubbing my moderately-hungover head.  
  
It was about then that I caught on that I was buck naked.  
  
Even with Miles still asleep beside me, my self-consciousness got the best of me and I grabbed a blanket from the foot of the bed. Bending down, I found Miles' hoodie and my tank from last night under the bed, and my skinny jeans a little ways away, but strangely, my underwear were nowhere to be found. I couldn't go commando in my jeans (that was a recipe for disaster, I could tell already) so I opened a drawer and grabbed one of Miles' pairs of sweatpants and pulled them on. They were a little big but very soft, and I put his sweater on again.  
  
I felt like I was _his_.  
  
I kissed Miles high on his cheek and wandered into the bathroom where I found my hair mussed completely to one side and a large welt on the side of my neck. I first felt panic, not able to connect any explanation for what it was, and _of course_ my first instinct was that it was something dangerous.  
  
And _then_ I caught on that it was a hickey.  
  
I smiled just a little, not for any direct reason, and brushed my fingers lightly over the raised skin. I didn't exactly remember receiving it, but I wasn't going to worry. I popped a few ibuprofen from Miles' medicine cabinet to staunch the wine hangover, and inspecting my reflection, more and more of the previous night came back.  
  
Holy fucking _shit_.  
  
Remembering Miles' mouth set my cheeks reddening again, and I was suddenly all too aware of the fabric of his sweatpants on my bare nether regions. I was beaming now, oddly proud of myself.  
  
Boy, would I have a story for David.  
  
... On second thought, I probably shouldn't tell him.  
  
Miles appeared in the hallway a moment later, stretching in the late morning sun. He was dressed only in his underwear, and my eyes short directly to the beautiful dark trail of his hairs that lead down from his navel. He yawned, "Good morning."  
  
"Morning," I was a little hoarse, coughing into the sleeve of his sweater.  
  
He absentmindedly touched my arm, walking by me and checking his reflection in the mirror. "What do you want for breakfast?"  
  
I shrugged, stepping back to give him full use of the mirror. "Uh. I don't care."  
  
He nodded and took a scoop of hair gel out of a dish and ran his fingers through his hair, returning it almost instantly to it's usual glory. Without saying anything, I found my way into the kitchen and took a seat at his table, which had been cleaned off since the night before. He showed up a minute later, wearing Berkely sweatpants  and still shirtless. But I wasn't going to complain.  
  
"You can eat eggs, right?" he bent over to the fridge. I gave a little nod and he took the carton out of the fridge and put down a few pieces of bread in the toaster as well. As he cooked, he looked back over his shoulder at me and noted, "You know, you were a lot more talkative when you were drunk."  
  
It was true. "Sorry. I'm just doing some thinking."    
  
He went back to scrambling his eggs and came to sit across from me a minute later, sliding a plate over the table. I picked up the toast and bit one of the corners. "Um... I'm sorry for last night," I finally spoke. "I mean, when I was crying. I just..." I covered my face again. "I'm sorry."  
  
Miles lowered his fork for a moment. "No. _I'm_ sorry. I shouldn't have done anything that you didn't want."  
  
"No, I wanted it," I repeated from last night. "I overreacted. I just... I didn't want to do anything wrong."  
  
"You didn't do anything wrong," he reached across the table with his free hand and stroked his thumb over my knuckles. "I had a great time. Thank you for coming over."  
  
Everything was so formal, I was afraid to say anything wrong now. "So... are we boyfriends now, or...?"  
  
He looked at me slowly for a moment, eyes narrowed, and he licked his lips. Moving fraction by fraction, he began to smile. "You know what? Yeah. _Fuck_ yeah, you're my boyfriend."  
  
Still shy, I ran fingers through my hair. "So can I kiss you?"  
  
He stood up and grabbed my by the shoulders, pulling me in and kissing me hard on the mouth. We fit together like jigsaw, and I let out a tiny muffled moan. He pulled back, cupping my face in both of his hands and squeezing my cheeks. "You're so fucking cute."  
  
We spent the morning together and I went home a little before noon. We agreed to get together again very soon - of course I wanted to be with Miles all the time, but we still had our own lives. I was willing to put everything on hold for him, but he convinced me not to. I wasn't just going to up and move out: David was still important to me, and he'd been there for me longest. If things with me and Miles continued going the way they were now, I was sure I'd be seeing a lot more of him as time went on.  
  
"Thank you for everything," I beamed to my new boyfriend (oh, what a _word_ ) as we parted at his threshold. "I'm sorry if I fucked anything up, but... I just want everything to be perfect so badly."  
  
"Don't worry," he said, probably for the thousandth time in the past twelve hours. "It was. I'm glad I took your yoga class, Waylon."  
  
"I'm glad you had the nerve to get my number," I smiled. "And if we don't end up getting together again this weekend, I'll see you on Monday?"  
  
"Of course," he nodded with a genuine smile. "But I'll text you. I might call you tonight, if I'm not doing anything."  
  
"I'd love that," I was beaming still, leaning in and waiting for a kiss. He got the hint and grabbed my chin in two fingers and tilted my head upwards, locking lips with me for the last time that day. "Goodbye, Miles." I felt so giddy. Giddy with puppy love.  
  
"See ya," he winked, saluted, and stepped back into his apartment.  
  
I was ready to _squeal_ with joy.  
  
I'd never gone on many dates. Like I've said before, my only real relationship had been Gluskin, and everything with him had its own category. In my mind, the last night with Miles was the absolute perfect date. Of course I'd had my slip ups - he knew all about my weird background - but the good parts covered up the bad. Not only could he satisfy every sexual need of mine, but he made me feel loved as well. I couldn't have been happier.  
  
Still, I had _a lot_ of explaining to do when I got back to my dorm.  
  
David was _not_ impressed to see me dressed all in Miles' clothes and sporting my hickey, not impressed to the point that he made me put on a different shirt. I think it made him uncomfortable, which is why I conceded. He pointed out that I didn't smell like myself.  
  
That was something I was okay with.

* * *

I sometimes regretted decisions I made.  
  
Staying up for 36 hours straight to finish my final project for my programming course? That was a regret. Taking up a shitty job as an operator at a tech call center to make a few extra bucks? Yup, regrets.  
  
Giving up teaching yoga was one of my biggest regrets.  
  
Still, the time seemed right. I mean, there was no way for me to keep teaching after I moved away. We had a final send-off party. I'd become a permanent instructor at the little studio throughout my time at Berkely, and I knew some regulars that had been with me for almost the whole time. Lisa was there, and David (who had still never tried yoga but wanted to send me off on a high note) and Miles, of course. There was champagne and new-age healthy snacks, and and plenty of fond words. I was surprised how well liked I was. Lisa, who'd been doing yoga probably as long as I had, took me aside and told me that she'd never had an instructor as good as me. Her hug was warm but controlled, just like she was.  
  
I'd never seen David so emotional as at that party. I might go as far to say he was a little teared up. Hell, I was. I felt a little bad about leaving him. He was probably the best friend I'd ever had, but he still had at least two years of school, and I didn't have much of a choice. He had a very nice girlfriend, a lovely little blonde that was what I would want to be if I was a woman. I didn't feel as bad about leaving him because I knew she'd take care of him. He'd confessed to me about a week before I was scheduled to leave that he planned to propose, and I was happy for him.  
  
I'd be the best man at their wedding, but that's a different story.  
  
The party ended with long hugs, plenty of tears from me and some of my female friends (seriously, if you think women are emotion, you clearly haven't met me) and a final toast. "To new beginnings," Lisa lead.  
  
"New beginnings," everyone else followed, clinking glasses of crisp champagne. Miles hugged me from the side as we both sipped our cups. As the party ended, I followed him down the fire escape stairs to where his Jeep was loaded up with our stuff. I climbed into the passenger seat as he entered the car, meeting my gaze and reaching across, taking my hand and rubbing the ring on my forth finger with his thumb.  
  
The road stretched before us, looking like home.  
  
I knew this was a choice I'd never regret.  



End file.
